Impulses
by N.T. Embe
Summary: "When we're fighting. That's the only time I feel we ever let our emotions come across to each other...and I kind of want to leave it that way." - The Third in the Suzu/Kallen series! Things are getting...interesting. Possible pairing? Hmm. Maybe, maybe.


**Title:** Impulses

**Rating:** PG

**Theme:** Thicker

**Pairings/Characters:** Kallen and Suzaku

**Spoilers/Warnings:** None really. This time, it's all fanfiction.

**Time Period:** Skewing storyline timelines from beginning till end! Still in the realm of 'after Episode 19, Season One' and before 'the bad stuff that happens in Episode 21+' without a clear set date! So let's go from the continuing-series perspective: Within a few of days after my fic Teach Me.

**Summary:** Suzaku has agreed to teach Kallen to fight…no Knightmares involved. It's becoming harder and harder to keep things from becoming personal.

**Word Count:** 3,380

**Dedication:** To my youngest sister, Christine. You are the sweetest person I have ever had the pleasure and blessing to know. I'm sorry it took me so many years to realize it. You inspire me to be so much better, for your sake. I hope to become the best sister you could ever have someday! Because you deserve so much more from me than I give you. And let me tell you something else: I am _so_ proud of you. You have faced so many obstacles and challenges in this past year alone, and very few people could toughen up enough to make it through them _and_ still keep that beautiful, kind-hearted and always considerate personality you have. You're an inspiration to your big sis, and I love you so much! So, remember! Fight, fight! :D

**Disclaimer:** I own the right to dream! That is enough!

**A/N:** It's a relief to write as Kallen, for those of you who wonder why almost all my Code Geass fics include her. She's everything I am, except I'm the Kallen Stadtfeld, stuck in school. Restricted by environment to mute every aspect of myself to the point of it being unbearable. That's why when I get to explore the rest of who Kallen is, in all her emotive glory, I revel in it.

. . . . . . .

If I can get head-on in your face, I will. And what the hell, you're practically the same. Maybe a little more evasive, but you've got the same dynamics down. I'd rather rip your limbs apart one by one, and you've got the class to make sweet, clean severances.

Anal, Suzaku?

. . . . . . .

A piercing gasp as breath was knocked cleanly out of an animal. The large, dull resound of impact rang in the ears of the red haired girl as she clutched for her chest, feeling where all the air had gone from with a useless grasping. The only thing caught up as fingers pinched together was the dark fabric of her shirt. Her hand sprang open and clenched abruptly above the cloth, nails digging with sharp reprimand into her palm. The fist arced and slammed against the tiled ground with the disappointing slap of flesh against stone. She hated to hit it for that very reason. She had to admit again—grumbling to herself—that it never produced the loudness that matched her aggression. No, punching metal and breaking wooden objects of whatever craft had that satisfaction. And glass. Only sometimes though.

Then there was an audible expulsion of breath, the lightest of verbal noises that accommodated any bodily exertion and her eyes snapped wide at the sound. She felt him coming before she could see him. Instantly she retracted her arm and rolled, pushing with both her arms as soon as she was belly down into a crouch that turned into a leap backwards. Irritation was piling up and she fussed out a groan that was clipped off as soon as it began—memory: _'Don't let yourself get carried away by a verbal emotion. These often lead to false reassurances in your mind that don't let you counteract any change in your opponent's perceived actions.'_ It fit. She silenced herself.

Eyes had now caught the opponent. He had landed where she had fallen and then spun after her, leg extended with the intent to catch one of hers away from her body as she crouched. He was still after her. Her footing was wrong. If she attempted to leap for him and catch him off guard, he would fell her without breaking a sweat. She pushed off from the ground with her legs and powerfully as she could, barely missing the continuous arc of his other leg, kicked out with a force that could easily draw blood if it was booted and connected anywhere with her head. For safety, they fought with hands and feet bare, but that didn't change the acutely fatal potency behind what Suzaku was teaching her. Yes, this—feet planted readily now—was all—a slide to the left as his arm reached out in a debilitating grab, missed—a part—other arm blocking her right hook to his chin, successful—of her—her left knee kicked up towards his spine, stopped, his body turning in time to allow his other arm reach—training.

'_Keeping your footing in melee combat is essential. Any offensive action on the part of your opponent can unbalance you while you don't have a steady purchase on the ground.'_

Suddenly she realized he could easily have thrown her again, as he had before. He had allowed her to become trapped like this. A punch was easy to block. Easier to turn against the initiator. 'Remember, Kallen!' she reprimanded herself mentally. 'Remember!' _'Most attacks directed at the upper body can be predicted, even to within a split second, because that's where most of your senses are based. Because of that, you almost always have the advantage in those situations. Evading, blocking, or using that attack against your opponent—you can assume the rest, Kallen.'_ These were things she needed to engrave into her mind, and furthermore into her muscles. Memorize. Memorize, memorize, memorize was the command, the only theme. Remember, and grow stronger!

He would prompt her to recall his words now. The left hand that had grabbed her knee forced it away, turned palm upwards and instantly a chord of warning was struck in her body. It was a throw. He still had her right arm disabled in his grasp as well. But as her stomach felt the curl of his fingers in her shirt, gripping it in preparation, she noticed he had stopped—or paused, more like it. Azure eyes jumped from the trap of arms between them to his eyes and found them smiling. "Both of my arms are burdened at the moment," he led her compassionately. "Knowing that, my attention should be focused on the upper body, because it is and will be in use for the next second or so, Kallen." She stared open-mouthed at him, in the small way she often had a habit of doing, and then it clicked. With a faint nod, her eyes conveyed their understanding, stirring with adrenaline, anxious for action.

Without waiting for him to lift her, she jumped. The preemptive worked. His arms, concerned one second too long with the holding of her were not yet functioning with the intent to toss her—the action had not yet been allowed by the shifting of his muscles. Her jumping therefore, brought about the opposite reaction. _'Surprise raises the defenses for a split moment.'_ They held onto her tighter, attempting to keep her grounded, in direct opposition to their master's intent. So when her feet were supposed to touch ground again, instead, she let them slip out from under her, dropping herself to the ground. In the next second her right leg kicked up against his arm, trying to loose his hold on her shirt. He was holding. A shift in his body screamed the warning. Down! He would pin her! She straightened the arm still in his grip and clasped his wrist the same way he held hers. Then she tugged, and her foot fumbled for purchase on a more solid part of him. A throw, would it loosen his grip?

But the attempt was feeble and ill-planned. He angled his body so her foot slid off the cloth of his right side and all her defense was lost. He caught her other arm in his and held her down. His gaze looked to hers before she would meet the green eyes, distressed mildly by the situation she had gotten herself into. "What next, Kallen?" he asked and she furrowed her brows. But the steady expectant gaze of the boy above her eventually encouraged her to take a deep breath and calm down, the emotions easing away from her countenance. What might provoke her freedom? Her eyes drifted to the side in thought. Then her gaze shifted, taking in their current positions. Her arms were pinned, both at the wrists, for her own grip on his arm had broken when her leg slipped. Other than that, her right leg was pinned beneath his. So her only feasible option was the left limb. But what to do with it?

'_Use your opponent again himself. Obvious strengths and advantages can be turned into weaknesses. Kallen, can I give you an example?'_

It clicked. She tried not to give it away, tucking her head down—then suddenly ramming it towards his throat with all the force she could muster. He jerked back, as she expected, to avoid—lessen the blow, for she caught him on the chin even with his swift reflexes. Her leg was pulled up between them and her knee caught his stomach with an initial blow, then pushed with a rush of eagerness. This was her one shot! His leg slipped. Her eyes shone, flashing downwards—both legs brought up, under him, pushing feet planted against his stomach—the tides were reversed. He gasped quietly—her legs rising like pistons, the face below him contorted with intense vehemence…he could be shaken by those eyes—had to loose her arms, planting his palms flat upon the floor and launching himself with his feet, aided by her thrusting legs, executing a flip with a hundred-eighty degree twist…in theory. The height was too low, the distance too short, and—not having a proper position to work from—his center of gravity was dislocated. The twist was only completed three-quarters of the way, so that when he arced over her head and landed, avoiding falling upon his back, he landed heavily on one side, pinning his arm beneath his body.

Her head tilted back against the solid floor, eyes following his attempt to maintain the advantage. She saw him falter. 'No time. Take him!' her mind screamed at her. Jerking onto her stomach, she broke into a crouching position. He was pushing himself up, knew she would attempt to come after him. His words, _'Turning your back to your opponent—Kallen, I don't have to tell you it's dangerous. Still, I can give you a word of guidance. If you are able to catch your opponent with his back turned, look at his footing. If it is stable, it usually means he's expecting the attack, and so, you should be more cautious. Especially then, do not try to assault their upper body, because it is most likely they will be able to use your attack against you. Break their footing, then you will be safer.'_ His arms were level, fingertips to the ground—flicker of green eyes over his shoulder, meeting the surprise of hers—his footing already replaced, body ready to spring forward—runner's mark, ready, g—she lurched forward, slid, kicking out her leg and catching his out from under him just as he launched himself forward.

He fell short, heavily, and she turned her body atop of him, knocking out his arm at the inner elbow as he tried to lift himself up. There was nothing to do but thrust all her weight onto his back, and she did it ensuring that she first grabbed the one arm she had disabled and pinned it between their bodies. She needed to keep him from getting up. Twisting around to hastily glance at his legs, she stretched her legs back, threatening to lose her hold on his arm as he attempted to free the arm and rise once more. 'Make the move!' her head shouted at him, 'Come on! Do it!' And he did. In attempting to rise, his legs began to lift from the ground to find footing. Abruptly she sat up and then slammed her elbow down upon the middle of his back, as close to the spine as possible, she hoped. The effect was not substantial—she had missed—but it was enough to distract him. As he rose up onto his knees and she fell back, she swung her legs—one on the outside and one between them—around his left leg, only then slinging her arm around his neck tightly, locking it in place with her other arm. He grabbed for her arms instantly, but whereas in some cases throwing her off would have been swift and simple, now her legs prevented it.

She was ready for anything he would try to do, she told herself. But suddenly was aware of the closeness of his hands to her face, and making a swift decision, she leaned her body forward with as much force as she could allow, giving her almost prone state. It had the desired effect however, and unable to do anything but turn his face to protect it from the impact, the brown haired pilot fell forward onto the floor yet again. There was a wavering sigh from him, and he smiled and nodded his concession of victory over to her. Guiltily, she was finally allowed to loosen her grip, letting go of her impromptu instructor gently so as not to harm him any more than she might have already. Not that she thought it must have been much. She knew all too well how strong and enduring Suzaku was. Even more delicately she unwove her legs from around his. Now that the exercise was over, she was only all too aware of the intensity of their contests. Sitting back on her heels she stood up after a moment and stepped off to the side, determined not to watch as he picked himself up.

"You've gotten considerably better in such a short amount of time, Kallen," he complimented, and the authenticity of the words encouraged her not to look at him. She shrugged, crossing her arms defensively and then nodded, glancing sidelong at him at last. He was standing now and considering the clock upon one wall with interest. "It seems you're increasing the time you can last in the fights too. That's good," he pronounced, the last part uttered much more softly than the rest of the statement. She jerked her head towards him. Was it just her, or was there was a weird note in his voice at that last bit? Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him, but for once, he did not turn to meet her gaze. What was it? Maybe…reluctance?

"Hey, Suzaku," she spoke up gruffly, dropping her arms and stepping up to him, reaching out an hand and grabbing his shoulder none too delicately. "Is that a bad thing, or do you have a problem with me actually _improving?_" Her eyes were harsh, her voice ready to bite. She was still on edge from this last match. She must have tried harder this time than all of the others combined. It was weird, awkward. She felt inept at hand-to-hand combat, for all the skill she seemed to possess in the Guren. Every move she made, he blocked or used to his advantage. Watching him stop the first few times to ensure she was alright after a throw or blow to a nerve bundle in her limbs drove her mad. She had to snap at him and at last threaten him to treat her as a legitimate opponent before he listened. Even then he held himself back to ensure she was not injured in their fights.

They were usually short, because one, two moves into it and she already made a mistake that allowed him an opening, always leading to her 'defeat.' After a while Suzaku began to pause in the midst of battle, whenever she was stuck or about to be overtaken. He would take the moment and speak to her about their situation, what moves he planned to make, where she could improve her posture or assault, what mistakes to avoid. She had to admit, he was a good instructor. Patient, precise, unafraid to lead a person by the hand until they were sure they could get it. He knew just when to step back and let her take her chances with what she had learned, and he was ready to aid her whenever she asked for it. For, if she had thought she had thrown away her pride when she asked him to help her in this manner, it had returned the moment she had seen just how poorly she truly did against Suzaku Kururugi.

The army pilot shook his head gently as she addressed him, his gaze dropping to eye level, but he did not turn to meet her. "Kallen," he began, and she wrenched back from him, disgust painting her face.

"You regret it, don't you?" she raised her voice, her mouth hanging open in disbelief, her brows hanging darkly over her eyes. He didn't answer for a moment and she snapped her teeth shut, clenching them tightly and grabbing his arm, yanking him around to face her and dropping her hand. "Why?" she demanded, her voice fluctuating with anger beneath the strained calm of resolve.

It was not surprising that when his eyes met hers, they were an echo of those back on the Island of the Gods. That one day…. She wanted to loathe it. It could not be left behind now, and it seeped into every conversation they had, either the very argument or a below-the-surface nuance of every issue they disagreed on. She was beginning to hate those eyes. Their green was turning rotten around the edges, an empty, cold vessel on the inside. And all in between, nothing but that soft poison that wanted every moment to inflict her with guilt. She tightened her hands into fists, gripping them so tightly her arms shook.

"I feel I am not teaching you for the reasons you deserve," he said plainly.

Kallen shut her eyes and let out an aggravated sigh, moving her body away from him before abruptly turning back and slashing her arm in front of herself, eyes piercing his vehemently. "Again, Suzaku," she asked, "_why?_ Is it because I'm 'fighting a losing battle' or I'm 'not doing it the right way'?" He began to shake his head, and she gushed out a loud exclamation. "Then what is it? Just come out with it already! It's irritating enough knowing you're getting your ass handed to you when your opponent isn't even _trying_ to take you seriously. Or being taught day after day a bunch of crap that you _try_ to get good at, only to then have to face your _bull_ about not even wanting to do this! What are you saying, Suzaku. That I forced you to help me?" She scoffed and glared at him with sudden disinterest, snapping her hand from her shoulder to her thigh in a tired, urging gesture. "Make up your mind already. If you're going to help me, then do it without questioning your own frickin' judgment halfway through."

"You don't care if I'm helping you to satisfy my own ends, Kallen?"

The slightest movements of annoyance stilled in her body. The red haired woman turned her face towards him a little more, eyes narrowing dangerously in a slow motion. They locked onto his countenance as he stood still, yet again, before her scrutiny. His lips were turned just faintly downwards in a small frown, brows hidden unthreateningly behind his bangs, and though she grazed swiftly over his eyes, he saw how she trailed almost unwillingly back to them. They stood there in silence again, a potent medium of tenuousness and whispered connections between them, and at last her eyes drew away, and her mouth shifted into a crooked, grudging acceptance

"I'm getting something out of this too, Suzaku," she said at last. "Maybe mine is a little more obvious, but that's the price I've got to pay for asking your help. So it's fair enough." She turned away from him and abruptly heaved a sigh so loud it sounded like she was going to be sick for a moment. Suzaku blinked in surprise and was caught off guard as the red haired pilot whirled around and punched him in the arm with enough force to bruise.

"Asshole!" she snapped, eyes flashing in angry reprimand. "Stop wasting your free time and mine! You have duty in another hour and I've got a ton of homework to catch up on."

He laughed guiltily, and rubbed his arm, conceding her the point. She had already turned around and thrown her arms over her head, resting her forearms against the top of her hair as she walked away. It was odd. How predictable this girl always seemed to be in person, now that she was herself in these few times they set up training sessions together. In contrast to how she was when actually in battle. She learned well, quickly, and with the proper room for her pride to remain unbroken, and allowing her the small words of encouragement to show her she was on the right track…and she became a wild card even for her tutor.

"Thank you, Kallen," he said aloud suddenly.

She turned around in surprise, arms still atop her head. Both her eyes and mouth were open in bewilderment, stunned as though uncertain what she had done to deserve the gracious words. Her mouth shut and she blinked at him. "You're welcome…Suzaku," she answered back, and though the shock had not yet gone out of her voice, all the negative emotions had fled into the unconscious realm of forgetfulness.

Just as she had done for him.


End file.
